You Really Need to Get Out More
by BlakeIy
Summary: A few years after the events of Majora's Mask, Link makes one of his annual visits to Clock Town just in time for the festival. There, he meets up with an old friend from his past - that is, the Happy Mask Salesman - and attempts to break the guy out of his creepy old shell. Link personally makes it his goal to teach the man the arts of gambling, fashion, and picking up chicks.


You had to feel a little bad for the guy. There he was thirty or forty-something years old with no actual home, and no actual family. He hadn't even had a _girlfriend_ that anybody knew of. He was a nomad, a traveling salesman. I mean, not that not having a home is bad or anything - during my quests and all I actually enjoyed all that freedom. But the difference between him and I is, I'm still young. Barely seventeen and on the road - that's perfectly normal for a man my age - now, _this_ guy...

It's been six years since I stopped the moon from falling on this town. Why am I back? Well, for the festival, of course. I've been coming back to Termina from no matter where else I've been every year for this event. I always have a blast. Anju and Kafei had a kid, and she drives the bombers _wild_. Sweet kid.

But still...again, with this guy. I'm surprised he came back, too. The last time I saw him he was frantic to get his mask and get the hell out of here. Probably stopped by again to sell new masks or something. Couldn't hurt to say hi, could it?

* * *

I walked past the people of South Clock Town, waving to faces; residents I've known for years, as well as both new and reoccurring tourists. The squinty-eyed, hunched-over man was knelt on the ground in front of a stall. Must have rented it out this year. He was removing an array of masks from his pack and laying them on the counter, and it didn't look like he'd have shop set up until a day or so.

As I approached him, I noticed he didn't flinch, didn't look at me - nothin'. Uhhhhh...okay...guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands. I squatted in front of him and have him my best, glad-to-see-ya-buddy smile, and showed off my hand. "Hey," I began. His head snaps to me, eyes still closed. Why does this guy scare me more when I'm an _adult_? "Remember me?"

For a while he's frozen ice. I actually thought he broke or something, until I heard the, "Oh ho ho!"

I try joining him in awkward laughter, but he stops as soon as I try. Friendly.

"It's been a while..." His voice lingers. It _always_ lingered. I can't tell if he has more to say or that's his way of telling me to screw off.

"Haha..ha...here for the festival, eh?" I glance to the masks he'd placed on the stall. "An event with this many people must be great for business."

He nods.

My eyes drift downward to his pack. He's still unpacking. "OH," I exclaim, a wave of enlightenment washing over me. "How rude of me." I reach my hand into his pack, my sights set on the next mask to be removed. "Here, let me help y-"

My peripheral vision tells me that the guy had suddenly stopped moving. That's fine, nothing wrong with that...though, I _do_ see red out of the corner of my eyes..next to yellow, red is a colour that really gets a hold on your vision. And why in Din's name do I have this weird sensation that someone is looking at...oh.

I look up.

There, in his face, is the very twisted look I remember from my childhood, back when either I didn't have enough money to pay for a mask or I told him I hadn't gotten that Majora thing for him. "What did I do _this_ time?" I think, my tone very full with the accent of annoyance. Or. At least I _thought_ I thought it. Turns out I actually blurted that sentence right at the guy's face. His angry, red-eyed, PO'd face.

I retract my hand and clear my throat. "I'm...sorry?"

His features let loose and he squints his eyes again. "Oh ho ho! Do not waste your time with me...I will unload these wares myself...just believe..."

Believe? Believe _what_? I'm not fucking retarded I understand that you can perform the simple task of removing wooden crap from a bag.

He shoots me a glare that sends chills up my spine, almost as if he had read my thoughts. Creepy. I stand up, my calves aching from all the squatting. "Well, uh...I'd better...get my clogs ready.."

"Hm?" The Happy Mask Salesman looked up at me, his usual squinty-eyed, smiling face.

"I'm...river dancing during the Carnival of Time...with..wooden...clogs.."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Well, see ya 'round!" I turn and make a move for the milk bar. I need something to clog my arteries with.

* * *

**Shitty prologue is shitty. But I had fun. Next chapters will be more entertaining I hope...? Thanks for reading?**

**By the way, if you are offended by the language I've used in here then just PM me. To be totally honest I'm typing this on my ipad at a REALLY weird angle and I don't feel like typing everything here lol.**


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